the days pile up like used plates,
and I stop trying to twist people’s minds,
their crooked angles, stubborn noise,
and their skewed perspectives.

they move like the wind, 
each on their own trajectory.
some slip away 
like sand in a clenched fist 
no matter how much I try
to hold them. 
 
but others stay, 
quiet, steady, beside me, 
through the mornings that burn 
and in those cold, chilly nights. 
 
there’s a different peace in this letting go, 
in knowing
your tribe will find you, 
not because you pursue them, 
but because
you stand still. 
 
in the long run, 
we all get the company 
we deserve.